


Property of Hyperion.

by Sinbirdy



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Basically Jack wants to own Zane, Bottom Zane, Choking, Cutting, Denial of Feelings, Jack Has Issues, Jack would love to strangle Zane but don't worry he does let go, Jack's an asshole but Zane really hoped he wasn't deep down, Jealousy, Knifeplay, M/M, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Office Sex, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Strangulation, Threats of Violence, Top Jack, and Zane doesn't stop telling him to fuck off, and it's only brief and not life threatening, brief cameo from Jack's assistant Meg, the cutting tag is NOT self harm it's Jack using a switchblade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinbirdy/pseuds/Sinbirdy
Summary: Zane is an assassin for hire, he'll work for and kill anyone if the price is right.But Handsome Jack thinks he's too good to let anyone else have, and decides to make it clear: his freelance days are over, he belongs to Hyperion now.
Relationships: Zane Flynt/Handsome Jack
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Property of Hyperion.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheOperativeWord (KitsuneHashiba)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuneHashiba/gifts).



> TW: This is an explicit fic in which Jack essentially assaults Zane. Please take the tags seriously and know that if any of them are uncomfortable or triggering for you, this is not the fic for you. Do not read something that will upset you, and certainly don't blame me if you do and get triggered. You've been warned.

[ **ECHO RECORDING - SENDER, HANDSOME JACK:** " _ Hay tough guy, need to see you. Come to Helios, today. It's important. _ "]

Zane prefers to have his feet firmly planted on the ground than be in the middle of God-knows-where in space. Planets and soil, that's what he likes, so taking jobs somewhere where gravity exists is always a positive. Space stations...not so much.

Sure there's gravity, but it doesn't feel authentic. It's like he's drifting from his sanity, losing himself to the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space. Space stations, ships, they're like a throne looking down at a sea of poverty, and Zane isn't made to just vainly tread on sufferers. He likes dirt, soil, natural life, musky heat, toiling winds-- overpriced industrialised ships and stations don't bring him the same satisfactory joy.

Still, Hyperion is alright, if not a bit too  _ fancy  _ for Zane's taste. He hardly begrudges the blinding glow of the golden walls as he walks down executive hallways, and since every employee is dressed to impress, Zane appreciates having the eye candy to ogle. There's giant, shining statues of  _ the  _ Handsome Jack in every sector, almost at every interval available, posing with grandeur and intimidation. Zane finds most of the poses rather humorous, though he imagines that isn’t the reaction Jack wants people to have seeing them. Maybe other people with a more rational sense of fear would be terrified. 

A lot of people who work on Helios know of Zane. He’s become a regular guest at this point, usually popping by fortnightly to converse with the big bad boss. Zane is nice, and after so many visits, certain employees have copped on that he must be important enough to Jack to still be  _ alive _ , so they subtly suck up to him. Sometimes random guys run up to him with a coffee and a doughnut, or he’s asked if he’s been working out - Zane doesn’t begrudge it, though, he adores the flattery, and takes what he can get. When he’s being hunted and chased, a majority of his free time, sweet gestures like such are appreciated.

He always brings a token gift for Meg, Jack’s longest running assistant. She’s a homely girl, with a sunny disposition and innocent face, and sticks out like a sore thumb among the unruly, cut throat employees on Helios. She loves Zane visiting - it’s usually a good excuse to talk someone’s ear off without judgement or fear of being shot. This time he has a custom made necklace made from the diamonds at the bottom of some waterfall on a planet he cannot remember the name of. He just says “ _ You better keep this safe! It’d cost a fortune and maybe my lungs to replace! _ ” and she squeezes him tight in an appreciative hug. 

“Is he in there?” Zane asks as he gently pulls away from her grasp, gesturing toward the obscenely large double doors at the end of the hallway. Meg hands Zane the necklace and turns around for him to put the necklace on her. He does. 

“Yes, he had a meeting with a Maliwan rep earlier though, so I don’t know how stable his mood is right now.” Zane knows she would never say such a thing if it was anyone  _ but  _ him on the receiving end. Her relationship with Jack was actually pretty good, since she excelled at her job and didn’t run her mouth telling the world his most embarrassing secrets (the kind  _ only  _ a secretary with 10 years experience could know), but that didn’t mean she thought very highly of Jack. 

Zane hooks the necklace and turns her to face him again. “Ah, ain’t nothing his best friend can’t handle! Bet I can make the ol’ bastard cheer up.” Zane spins on his heels and shoots her a charming wink as he walks away down the hallway. 

She calls out, “I don’t think Handsome Jack has any friends, let alone a  _ best  _ one!” 

Probably true. Zane’s known Jack a long time, and their relationship has always been a complicated one. Zane is an assassin for hire, and his impressive skills and kill record makes him a very sought out man. He first met Jack back before he took over Hyperion, when he was visiting Elpis for a pick up job. He'd seen him - scrawnier and more worrisome than he ever is now - and offered an ear to bend. They shared a few drinks, exchanged traumatising stories from their lives, and somehow ended up sleeping together in the shitty hotel room Zane was staying at. A few weeks later Jack asked Zane to kill someone for him. 

They formed a mutual respect for one another though. They were both broken souls, falling down a path that felt inevitable, and they were adjusting to the tainted joy in their depraved obligations. Zane tried to console Jack as he became unruly, but after a while it was better to just accept his dark quirks and block out the red flags. Their friendship, though complicated and unofficial, was the most stable relationship Zane had had in years. It was nice to laugh with someone, even if the joke was civilians having their heads blown off their shoulders.

It sometimes scares Zane how much he likes Jack. Those few times emotions are high and they end up tangled in sheets, hot hands roaming over one another - Zane doesn’t often feel his heart skip a beat when it comes to intimacy.

He places both hands on the enormous double doors, pushing with great effort to make them open wide, and holds out both arms for Jack to admire his grand entrance. He lets out a laugh, places his hands on his hips and stands like a model on a runway. It's the small things for Zane that entertain him.

Jack isn't even looking, though, much to Zane's disappointment.

Jack's office isn't the same blinding yellow as the rest of Helios, surprisingly. It's a warm, elegant room, highlighting the unnerving beauty in the vast open space outside the station. The backdrop opposite the door is a wall length window, and the dreamy blues and purple of the galaxy pour through like sand between fingers. The room glows under the natural cool light, transforming his walls and floors with a blue tint. There are two fountain features either side of the center walkway going toward Jack's desk, which is elevated up a level of steps. It feels simple, though it is fully furnished. It encapsulates the realities of Jack's suffering from intense grief, becoming his safe haven; a God's refuge.

Zane charges up the aisle, taking the steps two at a time before landing before Jack with a jovial bounce. Jack's got one hand typing feverishly at a keyboard, while the other flips through the stack of papers before him. His reading glasses are perched on the end of his nose. It's comical to see Jack  _ actually  _ working, putting his skills to work rather than just berate his employees and generally act as the tyrant he loves to be. He has a placid expression, bordering concern but too lax to be worried. Zane stares at him for some time before growing impatient and coughing theatrically to gain his attention. 

Jack's hand stops typing. He doesn't look up. "Did I tell Meg to let you in yet?" His voice is low and unnervingly quiet. Zane simply laughs him off. He pulls out the chair across from him and drops with a thud.

"I wasn't in a waiting mood. She said you had a meeting with Maliwan though. Go on, what's the craic?" He leans forward on the desk and props his chin in his hands, watching Jack with big, child-like eyes. It'd be amusing if Jack wasn't such a sourpuss. 

Jack lifts his head finally and folds his arms over his chest. He says "What?" With a cold, authoritative voice. His eyes are darker than usual, like he's looking past Zane's sunny disposition and good humour to talk with the ghost haunting him. Jack's not a predictable person, but Zane's found the tell tale signs of an impending manic episode. This is one of them.

Zane straightens back up, his hands slowly falling flat. He raises a brow. "Did something happen with Maliwan? Is that why you called-- ah  _ Jesus _ , who've I got to take out?" 

He's met with an unnerving grin. The hairs on the back of Zane's neck stand up. 

"A little soon to be dead birdy told me you took a job from that privileged playboy phoney recently?" Jack takes his glasses off and lays them gently beside his keyboard. He flexes his jaw, tilting his head and widening his eyes when Zane's expression moulds into confusion. "Katagawa. He hired you."

"Ah, yeah, that geezer," Zane laughs with a shrug. "He wanted me to take out some young lad that'd been harassing his guards. They'd got this homemade laser canon, constantly firing it at--"

He's abruptly interrupted when Jack slams his hands down on the desk, swiftly pushing himself up out of his chair. It's not fear Zane feels, just confusion, watching his friend act like a territorial guard dog scorned.

It's silent. The two stare at one another. Then Jack hums. "Didn't I tell you," he begins, slowly walking around his desk while dragging his forefinger along the wood, "that I didn't want you working for anyone else?" He makes his way around Zane and stands over him, placing his hands on his shoulders and gripping tight; the crunch of leather calling beneath his fingers. Zane looks over at him and rolls his eyes.

"Please tell me you're not jealous? I told you before Jack, I'm an assassin for hire! I work for everyone."

"And I told  _ you _ , Flynt..." Jack's grip gets tighter, digging hard enough to make Zane wince. He leans down to Zane's level and whispers in his ear, "You work for  _ Hyperion _ now. I own you, kay?"

"What?! Fuck off, mate! I'm not a commitment kinda guy, so just--"

But suddenly Zane is being lifted out of his seat and shoved against the desk. His chair tumbles over with a loud bang. Jack wraps his hands around Zane's neck and squeezes. The pressure of his bones wrapped up in his skin, tough despite the smooth layer between them, Zane can tell by the growth of his pupils that it fills Jack with an intoxicating euphoria. Zane grabs Jack’s wrists and tries to pull him away, able to get one hand off. 

“Are you fucking insane?!” Zane shouts. It’s not often anyone gets to see Zane angry. He doesn’t enjoy it, but when he’s being stared down by a maniac who seemingly has become drunk with bloodlust, anger seems to be the most appropriate response. Jack just snickers though, pulling back his hand that Zane has a hold of. He whips something out of his trouser pocket fast, and before Zane can comprehend what it is, the skinny, sharp point of a needle pierces his neck. He groans, able to finally push Jack back when he feels the fluid enter his system. Jack stumbles back and watches Zane hold his neck in panic. He grins maniacally, shoving the needle back into his pocket. Zane pants heavily. “What was that?!”

“Calm down, princess, it’s a mild sedation serum I had the boys in the lab whip up.”

Zane frowns. “Sedation?! What the fuck, Jack?! Why would you--” Suddenly he feels his head fill with a watery lightness. His limbs begin to inflate with illusional novocaine, defying his intentions as he attempts to reach out for Jack and attack him. It’s not like a tranquiliser, he’s still fully aware of his surroundings and has full consciousness, but forces his limbs to deny his orders, making him useless.

He tries to fling himself forward to attack Jack, but his legs give out. He stumbles a few steps and falls against Jack, being caught and pushed against the desk forcefully. Jack turns Zane around and makes him lay on the desk, one hand holding his wrists to the small of his back, the other gripping his hair and pushing his face against the hard surface. Zane wriggles, but he’s not strong enough to do any real damage. He’s trapped.

“Look, I’ll make this real simple for you, dumb dumb.” Jack’s voice is less aggressive now, slipping back into the familiar irritable amusement he usually has. He leans down over Zane to be uncomfortably close to his ear. Zane awkwardly notes the rather prominent feeling of something pressing against his rear. “I’m going to make it crystal clear that you belong to me from now on. I thought you could be reasoned with, if I simply told you...but clearly not.”

“You’re a fucking eejit, d’ya hear?! A fucking nutcase!” Zane turns his head and spits at Jack. The grotesque glob of saliva hits the cheek of Jack’s mask. Jack closes his eyes and wrinkles his nose in disgust. Zane doesn’t regret it, though, even when he knows who Handsome Jack is. He doesn’t care if his limbs don’t work, he’s not going down without a fight.

Jack sarcastically laughs under his breath. He takes his hand out of Zane’s hair and wipes his face with his thumb, promptly rubbing the spit back on Zane’s face. He looks irritated, like a parent with an unruly toddler.

“I’ve never had an assassin live as long as you have, Flynt, and it got me thinking. Last time you were here, you told me about all those jobs you’ve done for every company in the galaxy. You’re a man with connections, with  _ friends _ as well as enemies. I was blinded by your dumb charm...I didn’t truly consider your usefulness.

“And I thought...well, we had something some would consider a friendship. Hell, we’ve slept together before! That certainly makes us  _ close _ . I hoped you’d just do as I say, but you need to be taught. Your freelancing days are over, sweetheart. I own you.” He winks and pulls back. It’s eerie, and a dark coldness fills Zane.

He tries with all his might to get away, thrashing to his best efforts, but Jack's hold on him is like iron. It doesn't matter how much he fought, Jack has the upper hand, already having worn Zane out, finding it amusing how easy it is to pin his face down onto the wood surface and hold him there. There's a distinctive clink, metal touching in a fumble, then the feel of thick leather caresses his skin. Jack bounds Zane's wrists together and ties the belt as tight as possible, chuckling darkly when Zane tugs tirelessly to escape.

"I know how damn slippery you are, Flynt," Jack makes easy work of pulling Zane's pants down, letting them hang loose around his knees and admiring his ass. Hands hungrily knead the plush area, a growl encouraging Zane to kick hopelessly. "You know how many enemies you got out there?" Jack leans over his back, whispering into his ear. "They would _ love  _ to see you like this. Tied up, hopeless, unable to fight back...the ass out might throw them for a loop, but I'm sure they'd get a good laugh out of it--"

"You're a fucking dead man walking, Jack, I swear!" Zane spits through gritted teeth. His blood turns icy when Jack's evil laugh is followed by the sound of a swift flick from a switchblade. He stills suddenly, looking over his shoulder. As he expects, Jack possesses an above average size switchblade, blade edge ridged and shining, with a Hyperion yellow handle.

"I need to teach you a lesson." Jack's voice is deceptively relaxed. The cool metal of the blade comes in contact with Zane's ass. He sucks in, holds his breath, but it's just the flat side Jack strokes across his skin. "I could use a gun to keep you in line, but I might accidentally blow your brains out if I lose focus," He picks the blade up and presses it under his shirt against the cotton. "And a knife is just so good for multi-purpose, don't you think?" 

**_Rip_ ** . The flimsy sewing of the cotton comes undone under the blade's pressure. Jack drags upward, cuts his arms free from the sleeves, then does the same on the other side. It's a sloppy effort, but it works regardless, Zane's shirt yanked out from under him and discarded onto the office floor. 

"Considering we've actually  _ fucked  _ before, you know...after both  _ agreeing  _ to it, too, I don't see why you're going to these fucking lengths! You fucking eejit!" He grunts when Jack's hands suddenly press down against him, one on his shoulder, the other hard against his head. 

"That was sex. You see, the thing about  _ this, _ Flynt, is I'm making sure you remember who you belong to."

Jack lets go in favour of spreading Zane's thighs. His hands linger around the inside of his legs, firmly squeezing the soft part of Zane's thigh, where most of the weight rests, and makes an animalistic sound, hungry to devour him. His hands trail upward, cupping his ass and pulling his cheeks apart to get a front row view of what he's about to claim. Zane tries to wriggle away, curses and pants to make it clear he's frustrated, but he can't overpower Jack. Jack lets out an amused whistle, bouncing off the walls and sinking into Zane's skin.

"You do keep yourself nicely groomed! Did you expect to get lucky?" Jack mocks, digging his nails into the fat of Zane's ass and sighing contently when the man beneath him makes a pained grunt.

"Quick question Jack, when I kill you, do you want to be buried, or cremated? Because no matter what, I will fucking--" He cuts himself promptly when he feels an intrusive wet sensation right over his puckered hole. Heat engulfs him in seconds, to his dismay, and the dark chuckle Jack lets out under his breath doesn't help, his breath so warm against his sensitive skin. Zane clenches his eyes shut and lets his head hit the table.

"I told you I didn't like you working for other people," Jack says, his face still between Zane's ass cheeks. He moves his hands closer to the middle, his thumbs teasing at the edges of his hole, trying to stretch him open just a little, then doing the honours of swiping his tongue over the area again. Zane tries to clench. Jack smirks. "I said you were Hyperion property. How do I get through that thick,  _ bandit  _ skull of yours that loyalty means doing as I say?" He punctuates his point with his tongue, though this time dipping into Zane's asshole and relishing in the aggressive moan he's rewarded with.

Zane resents the hollow longing for the familiar heat. He's painfully hard, cock hanging between his legs, begging to be touched, taken care of, but he knows he shouldn't feel this way. He's  _ angry _ , first and foremost, fantasising about holding a gun to his " _ friend's _ " head and making him pay for this humiliation. He knew Jack was a mad man, obsessed with violence and power, but he figured he'd always been an exception to his villainy. He keeps his head against the desk until the snapping sound of a bottle cap catches his attention, and a second later something slick presses against his perineum, making him flinch.

Jack holds the bottle high above his ass, one hand holding his ass cheeks open, and squeezes the lube over his entrance, unbothered when it falls like a waterfall between his legs and pools at the floor beneath them. So nonchalant, like putting ketchup on a bun. He rubs some of it over his fingers but not as thoroughly as he would if he cared.

Then without warning, he forces his finger into Zane, unbothered by his attempts at clenching, and pushes in up to his knuckle. Zane yelps out, surprised and pained by the intrusion, and Jack shushes him like a mother soothing their infant. It's jarring, the assaulting index finger forcing him open while his other hand strokes his back.

Then, once again before he's ready, Jack pushes two slick digits insistently into him, making Zane gasp. This time burying his fingers to the knuckle takes one easy slide. Jack notices Zane's cock bobbing between his legs, the angry pink head desperate to release and feel affection. He snorts out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

"You're awful tense for a guy with a boner, you know…" he leans over, crooking his finger as he rests over his back and chuckles into his ear. Zane tries to struggle but it's useless. "You should  _ relax. _ " Jack says softly, then straightens back up to promptly pull his fingers out. Zane pants heavily, looking over his shoulder to glare at Jack.

The break is short lived however, as Jack's third slick finger joins the party and pushes inside him, causing him to groan in agony. The stretch burns, makes him think he might rip at the seams - Zane already knew Jack had thick fingers, but when they're fucking him relentlessly with no care or consideration, they suddenly feel a whole lot bigger. Jack moves his arm at rapid speed, fucking him hard with just his fingers, causing the desk to creak. He scissors his fingers inside him and stretches him open, then when arching up, hits his prostate, making Zane moan all too erotically. 

Jack pauses, his digits pressed firmly against Zane's sensitive prostate. "Well I'm starting to think you're  _ enjoying _ this?"

"Fuck off, asshole! I am not--" he holds his breath and stiffens when he feels Jack's fingers curl upwards, rubbing against that spot again. He flexes his shoulders and exhales. " _ Jesus _ …" he mumbles, Irish accent coming out hot on every letter. He doesn't realise at first but he actually starts bucking his hips in time to Jack's movement, fucking himself slowly as Jack works him open with a full feeling that makes him eager to cum.

A grotesque squelching noise emits as Zane whines at the sudden emptiness he's left with. Peering over, Jack's glaring at him, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his cock. The angle isn't great, but Zane can see he's rock hard, painstakingly so, with precum already slathered around the head of his dick. He slowly pumps his shaft and positions himself against Zane's rear. Though his limbs are still weak from being numbed, Zane is able to kick at Jack's shins, making him wince. He kicks his leg back twice as hard.

"If you keep flailing around like a little  _ bitch _ , I will have to cut off your legs, okay princess?!" Jack threatens. He grabs Zane by the roots of his hair and pulls aggressively, aiding him to roll onto his back. "Do you want that? Huh?! Do ya?!"

"No!" Zane barks at him. He lays uncomfortably on top of his hands, still tied together behind his back, awkwardly keeping his back arched. The two men glare at each other for a moment, silent, then Zane grunts. "I should have never trusted you...to think, I almost considered you a  _ friend _ ."

"Oh, how sweet...but I much prefer the term boss, or almighty and handsome ruler." Jack pulls Zane's legs around his waist and lines his cock up between his ass cheeks, nudging the rim of his entrance with his prick. Lube coats Zane's skin but it's not as thorough as he'd like, and Jack definitely didn't bother to lube up his cock, so he grits his teeth and holds his breath, anticipating the fiery ache he resents in sex. 

Jack doesn't bother to be kind. He promptly pushes inward and sheaths his cock completely despite how Zane grunts in pain. Zane balls his fists up behind his back. He's sure Jack loves it, the agonising velvety tightness that hugs his cock tight like a python. He tries to clench but realises that probably spurs Jack on. When he feels his cock push against his prostate, his eyes blow open and he stares at Jack. He wants to knock all his teeth out of his crooked smile..

A guttural wail comes forth from the depths of Zane as Jack begins rapidly driving into his ass, unaccommodating for how tight he is. His body does its best to take the unfamiliar size, but Zane still has to endure the sting burning through his limbs, cramping up the muscles in his legs and compelling him to squeeze his thighs tighter around Jack's waist, just to distract himself from the feeling. Smack, smack, smack - Jack's skin comes in contact with Zane's ass repeatedly, his balls hitting just below his tailbone, the force in which Jack slams into him makes Zane wonder if it'll bruise his pasty Irish complexion. He throws his head back and inhales deeply, holding the exasperation in his chest.

Jack doesn’t let up the aggression, hitting dead on Zane's overly sensitive spot with every thrust. Zane tries to ground himself with the pain, find a balance between the heat and the spikes, and imagines he's with someone else, content to indulge somewhere  _ exotic  _ and  _ mind-blowing  _ rather than Jack's dramatically tacky office. Jack's good in bed, Zane reluctantly thinks between his blurred fantasies, but this is one of his power trips. It's not about pleasure or a good time. 

Still, he can't help how his body spasms, mouth opening in a silent scream.

The prominent feeling of large hands over his slender torso ruins Zane's wandering thoughts. Jack's touch is possessive, threatening, even when it's feather light. He just lays them flat over Zane's chest like he's memorising his heartbeat, while his hips work like pistons. The rapid speed he fucks Zane contrasts his touch, and Zane takes the opportunity to look at Jack softly,  _ pleadingly _ …

It merely reminds Jack of what he's doing, igniting his full-blown lunacy. He pushes in Zane forcefully, as deep as he can get, and leans over to be inches away from his face. He grits his teeth as he looms over Zane, nails now digging into his firm pecs without mercy. He chuckles darkly under his breath when Zane winces. It's a warning, one that's not specific but general enough to evoke fear. 

He hums, eyes looking down between them. Then his hands retract from piercing his skin only to instead gently take the nub of both nipples between thumb and finger, and tweak roughly. He watches the man beneath him writhe, moan out in a mix of pain and pleasure, and promptly laughs at the discovery.

"You're kinky, Flynt." Jack teases, twisting both nipples again harder and laughing when Zane grits his teeth. He can feel him clenching around Jack's cock, even unconsciously lifting his hips and pushing his agonisingly hard dick against Jack's torso. "Look at you! You're practically begging me to keep this up!"

"Fuck off…" Zane answers back through his teeth, turning his head to avoid eye contact, but just as quick Jack's hand flies up to his face, grips his jaw and forces him to look back at him. He keeps his face in his grip so tight it aches the bones in his jaw, practically bruises them. He whines, but he knows it's a shallow effort that falls on deaf ears.

"You should be freakin' grateful I don't strangle you right now and throw your corpse out an airlock!" He pushes his forehead against Zane's. His nails dig into his cheeks slightly. Zane thinks for a second he can practically feel Jack's cock throbbing in time to his manic heartbeat. "But you're a valuable killer...I can't afford to toss you out just yet."

Zane scoffs, whimpering just a little when Jack twists his nipple again. "I've always said I'll do the fucking jobs you hire me for, so what's this delusional power trip all about? You think you need to cock your fucking leg and piss on me like a dog, mark your territory?" His eyes widen in worry when Jack's shark-like grin extends wickedly.

"If I have to."

"Well uh...I'd rather you didn't. Not a big fan of golden showers--"

He's cut off when Jack suddenly wraps his hands around his neck, squeezing down harder than before with more scornful rage. Zane tries to gasp but nothing. He just claws at Jack's hands, desperate for release.

"I'm sick of hearing your God damn comebacks." His voice is seething, scorching hot like he possesses the fires of a sun. He squeezes tighter, feels Zane's Adams apple press against his palm and twitch as Zane gasps for air. He makes a point to move his hand slightly and feel out his windpipe with his thumb, then pressing firmly against it. Zanes eyes draw into the middle, he's clawing wildly and smacking Jack's hands. It just makes Jack laugh. "You are  _ mine _ , Flynt, you got that? I could literally buy yours and your families lives and reduce you all to nothing but ash, and it wouldn't put a dent in my bank account! You're a good assassin but I can't keep up teaching you to learn your place. If a dog can't be trained, I'd put the sucker down. Do I need to do that to you?" Zane shakes his head frantically, and Jack smiles. He lets go of Zane's neck and straightens up. He rests his hands on his boney hips while Zane gasps for air.

Jack begins fucking him again, unbothered by the tears streaming down Zane's face, his hands pressing against his neck like he's checking it's still there in tact. He briefly keeps the pace slow before he pulls out almost all the way, nothing but the tip inside Zane's hole. He watches Zane catch his breath finally, and raises a brow. Zane doesn't say anything but maintains a weak glare, and Jack nods, slamming back inside Zane roughly with full force. Zane arches his back and groans.

Zane tries to return to a happier place, screwing his eyes shut tight while Jack relentlessly slams his cock into him. It's dizzying, and sore, and Zane can still feel the static dryness in the back of his throat where Jack's hands had been. 

Eventually Zane becomes used to it all. Whether it's his broken will or his vivid imagination, but the experience becomes more than tolerable. He can't be bothered to differentiate the experience as good or bad anymore. His limbs are weak and buzz like they're full of static. He feels so full, now completely stretched that Jack's cock has no struggle pushing in and out of him. He angles his hips and watches eagerly as Jack rolls his hips. The slither of his tanned skin, the feathering of pubic hair around his groin, and the peek-a-boo of his dick when he's pulling out - okay, Zane's found some joy finally.

And the heat becomes overbearing. Toiling in the pit of his stomach, crawling up his body to swallow him whole, he can feel himself drawing close to orgasm. His cock aches, heavy against his stomach and begging to be loved. He can’t seem to help himself but let out a string of moans, and if the look on Jack’s face is anything, he’s close too. 

“I’m going to let you cum,” Jack says, laboured between his own exhaustion. He runs his fingers through his hair and chuckles. “And you’re going to be grateful, because you’re mine. Say it, say you’re mine.”

“No fucking way.”

He’s almost giddy now, goading Jack on like his insanity is a drug. Jack growls and swiftly grabs the blade on the table, holding it against Zane’s stomach. The sharp point gently dents his skin. Zane’s breath hitches. 

“ _ Say it _ .”

“Kiss my arse, you egomaniac--” He lets out a pained growl when he feels the knife pierce his delicate skin, slowly drawing downward to cut along his hip. It’s not dangerously deep, but it’s painful enough to leave a puffy scar. Zane can feel the blood pooling around the cut. Jack's drawing something, he realises, feeling him making specific shapes, but he can't tell what.

Then Jack picks the blade up and pushes it against the pulse point of Zane’s neck. He leans in close. He's frightening. His hips are still rocking hard to fuck him. “Say you’re mine or I’ll bleed you dry.”

A strong part of Zane wants to be defiant, but the cold of the metal and the desperation to cum makes him hazy. He moans out as the heat pulsates through him, wrapping around his cock. 

He shouts, “I’m yours! I’m all fucking yours!” and is caught off by his orgasm coming in hot. He cums over his own stomach and moans out desperately as the climax radiates through him. 

Jack slams his hand beside Zane’s head, knife in his fist, and picks up his thrusting to catch his own orgasm. Zane whimpers desperately, feeling like a common whore eagerly awaiting Jack to finish. He doesn’t taunt him anymore, just fucks him mercilessly, eyes looking down at the mess Zane’s made. 

As Jack finally cums, he reaches out to ball his fist in Zane's tousled hair, and yanks so hard his head jerks with the movement. It's unexpected how he seemingly nuzzles his face into the warm crook of his neck, but he does, grunting in desperation as his orgasm spasms through his body. Jack's skin is so warm and clammy, it makes Zane damn near claustrophobic. His hips shudder, coming down from their instincts, before finally coming to a halt, sheathing his cock deep inside of Zane like he's protective covering. Zane hates how much he actually likes the full feeling.

Then it's quiet. It's the first peaceful moment they've had in a long time. The only sound is Jack's laboured panting, and Zane's own heartbeat echoing inside his head.

Zane can feel the warmth of his cum coating his inner walls. Jack's cock, still deep inside him, twitching, keeps him plugged up, but Zane can feel the cum dribble around his hole with every small movement, leaking down his skin and making his ass cheeks wet. It's kind of gross. He wrinkles his nose when Jack fidgets, the slight movement causing a significant amount of cum to gush down his ass. 

Eventually Jack pulls out, and looks over at the sticky mess that is Zane. He grunts and begins stripping himself from his clothes, walking toward a side door in his office. Zane doesn't watch him, but he knows it's his ensuite.

"You gonna untie me, asshole?" Zane calls out, not moving a muscle. The echo of Jack's footsteps comes to a halt.

"After I shower. Then I'm sending you home. For now you can lay there and enjoy your promotion as my bitch." Jack laughs loudly and slams the bathroom door behind him.

Zane struggles to look down but manages to get a good look at the messy wound Jack had left on the side of his stomach near his hip. He shakes his head and curses when he realises it's an obnoxious HJ.


End file.
